Legend
by lokiobsessed
Summary: Helga Labonair was a legendary wolf. She was believed to be dead but when she comes back from the dead, the Mikaelsons are worried. With Helga and the Mikaelsons biggest enemies coming back, she has a decision to make. Join them or betray them. (Part of the White Wolf Duology) (Rated T for language and violence)
1. Prologue

A thousand years of living could make or break a person. For the Mikaelsons, it broke them. They are beyond repair and salvation was out of sight for them. For me, it's different. It made me who I am. As a young girl, I was weak and very different to now. I didn't know the difference between good and bad and the wolves howling in the night never phased me. Love was a construct that was alien to me.

Now after a thousand years, things have changed. Some nights I sit and listen to the wolves howling and it's nice but I wonder what's going on. Love is a concept that I've never been able to let go of. I knew what good and bad was to me but I realised that every villain is the hero of their own story.

The world is viewed from so many different angles that you can't pinpoint one person as a villain and a hero. Good and bad to me was defined in one way. Killing was a necessary evil and living was the greatest achievement on this planet.

A thousand years of life taught me lots, I watched empires burn and people rise to power whether they deserve it or not. I watched as Britain scrambled to arms when the wars began. I watched the hope lessen in the eyes of soldiers during the first world war. I watched the world burn and stood back as it did.

A thousand years is a curse whatever way you put it. A thousand years of being with the person you love is a curse because one day you get sick of them. One day they get killed by a vampire hunter. Every angle is a bad one no matter what. A thousand years is living too long.

However, when you realise this and accept that thought, you begin to realise that that is too long. A thousand years in nine lifetimes too long but you are still standing you are still up and moving while everyone else is ten feet under.

That is the weirdest thing. Your loved ones are dead and you are standing. Some people despise it but some, like me, see it as a victory. Living as an immortal being is like going into a fight and seeing how long you could last in the fights you have.

Well, that what it was like for most vampires. They brought guns to knife fights and just fought to see how long they could live for.

For me, that still stands in some way. I bring a gun to my head and see if I can survive the day without the witches messing with it. No matter how many times they do, I still stand and it's torture but it's life.

It's like I'm watching the world pass by as I try to live. Some days I can. Some days I can't. Being near the Mikaelsons are my worst days. When I'm haunted by nightmares and thoughts that should have long been buried.

This is my life and it's how I've lived for a thousand years.

Empires burn, Kingdoms fall, Men rise. That was life on earth and that's what it was. Nothing stayed the same except for one thing. One thing always stayed the same and that was the strange thing about living for a thousand years.

You begin to see that throughout those long centuries that falling in love always happened. No matter who it was, people still fell in love. Even awful people fell in love. Hearts were broken and people loved. It never changed and never did.

For me, Love was a curse, a burden. My goal in life is to kill the Mikaelsons and as much as I wish I could do it, I can't. I never could and never would. Loving a Mikaelson was hard and loving a Mikaelson and also being destined to kill them was harder. It was like everyone was screaming to tell me to kill them but that small voice that overruled everyone was telling me something different.

It was the best and worst thing about being me. I'm still in love with the reckless Mikaelson, something that I could never change. Those feelings get put somewhere special and are buried beneath piles of other things in hopes of them disappearing.

Over a thousand years, that has yet to happen and I'm suspecting it never will.

This is who I am and who I will always be.


	2. Chapter One

[ **New Orleans, 1st July 2015** ]

Helga strolled down the bustling streets of New Orleans. She had a bag over her shoulder and was dragging a pristine white suitcase behind her. She was feeling slightly jet-lagged from her flight and the bags under her eyes were prominent. She had a camera around her neck and came off as any typical New Orleans tourist. Her bright smile and glimmering chestnut eyes held something dark behind them that passersby couldn't see.

She wasn't just in New Orleans to visit or reminisce of lost past days. She was there to find the Mikaelsons and kill them, as was her purpose. However, even if that's what she told herself, she knew she could never do it. Deep down buried under everything, she knew that she couldn't kill the Mikaelsons.

As she rounded the corner onto the next street, the Mikaelson home in sight, she spotted Elijah making his way across the street. He was donned in his usual thousand dollar suit and keeping up his facade of being the noblest of the family. Helga had a very different perspective on that.

Over her thousand years, she had heard of the murder sprees that the Mikaelsons had gone on. Kol, Elijah, Niklaus, Rebekah. They all murdered many but Finn didn't. From what she had heard, he'd been stuck in a box for 900 years and hadn't killed nearly as many as his siblings. If there was a contest for the noblest, it would be Finn and there was no doubt in Helga's mind that he would always be the noblest.

The 'noble' Mikaelson made his way into the Abbatoir as Helga carried on down the street. She was a street down so Elijah hadn't seen her, she was sure of that. She stepped out into the street and suddenly a car honking made her jump. She looked to her left to see an angry man in the car, glaring at her.

She rolled her eyes at him and walked across the road away from the man. He wasn't even paying attention, he was too busy on his phone. She was lucky he hadn't hit her. If it wasn't in the middle of the day, she would have attacked him and scared him to make sure he was paying attention next time. She enjoyed making humans pay for their mistakes because she cared for human life. It was fragile and it could be over in seconds. People like that could kill someone too soon, so when she had the chance, she taught them a lesson.

Helga was at the front door of the Mikaelson residence quicker than intended and as she stood there, she took a deep breath. After not seeing the Mikaelsons for a thousand years. Well, most of them. She hadn't seen Kol since the 1400s and had a conversation with Rebekah in the 1920s. That was the most interaction she had with the Mikaelsons over her thousand years of life.

She confidently made her way into the Abbatoir, her head held high and a smirk on her face. She had to come off confident and not like the young girl they used to know. The door was open and she entered through it, keeping up her facade.

She stepped onto the paves of the courtyard and looked around. It hadn't changed a bit since the 60s when she spent some time with Marcel. The Mikaelson crest was still on the wall and the vines still there. The fountain looked the same except for a few chips and the natural erosion that occurred.

"Hello?" Helga asked, placing her bags down next to her. In the blink of an eye, she was pinned up against a wall by her throat. The wind was knocked out of her and that combined with the grip on her throat. She was finding it difficult to breathe properly. She kicked at Niklaus, her attacker, glaring at him.

It took the hybrid a minute to realise who he was trying to kill but as soon as he realised, he let go and stepped back. His face showing a bit of shocked which he quickly covered up with aggression. When Niklaus let Helga go, she fell to the floor, panting to get her breath back. She rubbed her neck and looked up at the hybrid with annoyance. He hadn't changed a single bit. Still paranoid.

"What kind of greeting do you call that?" She asked keeping up her confidence facade as she climbed to her feet. Niklaus glanced back as Elijah entered the courtyard, shock evident on his features.

"Helga Labonair? The white wolf. How are you even living?" Elijah asked his hands in his pockets. Her eyebrows knitted together at the question and his face. Why was he shocked? Had Kol not said anything to them?

"I'm not a vampire before you start thinking that. I'm immortal but not like you." She responded, venom in her tone. Elijah didn't believe she was a vampire. He knew she couldn't be. She didn't look a day older than the day they left her in the village. In truth, she wasn't older than that day. She hadn't physically aged a day since 6th of December, 1002.

"Why are you here?" Elijah quickly switching questions, knowing he wouldn't get answers out of the woman. She buried her hands in her pockets and looked up at the sky, pretending to think.

"Well, I mean. I guess, I came to check in with my childhood friends." She said still pretending to be in thought as she spoke. She looked down at the brothers who looked confused still. She chuckled and picked up her bags. She slung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed her suitcase. "You two don't need to worry about it. I'm staying here for a bit, that's alright with you guys, right?" She asked and Niklaus was about to say something but she interrupted, "Wait I don't care." She chuckled, heading towards the staircase. She made her way up and was surprised neither of the brothers went after her. She could feel the glare of Niklaus on her back and the whisperings of Elijah trying to calm his brother.

* * *

Helga was lying on her bed, her eyes closed. The jet lag from her flight making her want to sleep. It was a reasonable time so it wouldn't matter if she did sleep now. She would wake up at a decent time and hopefully get her sleeping on track. She slowly began slipping into sleep, the noises slowly drowning out when suddenly, an excruciating pain started in her heart. It quickly spread to everywhere in her body. She could taste something metallic in her throat and she was holding back the scream she was desperate to let out.

She knew what was happening. Someone around here was her descendant. Someone had come onto these streets who's her descendant. She had about ten seconds to get away from here before she started throwing up blood and desiccating.

Ten...

She moved off her bed and rushed towards the door, opening it.

Nine...

She rushed out onto the balcony and looked down at the street below.

Eight. Seven. Six…

She continued staring at the pavement, debating whether to do it and waiting for the right moment to jump.

Five…

She jumped and landed on the pavement. She scraped her knees but they were already beginning to heal.

Four. Three…

She got to her feet and started running.

Two. One…

She didn't make it away in time. She fell to the floor, too weak to hold herself up anymore. The metallic taste became stronger and the blood was rising in her throat. She threw it up onto the pavement, the grey splattered with crimson red.

She tried to crawl away but she was beginning to desiccate. Her fingers going grey and slowly it spreading up her arms. Passersby were looking at her with mixes of concern and worry. One had their phone out and was calling 911 but they couldn't do anything for Helga.

Suddenly, there was a blur of colour and she was gone from the street. She was now in a back alley a few streets down. The colour began to return and the blood settled back where it was supposed to. She was panting heavily, trying to get her breath back. She looked up at her saviour to see Kol stood over her.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she saw the Mikaelson. Her heart rate accelerating as she admired him. He could hear her heart racing but decided to ignore it. Confused and concerned with what just happened to her. He dropped down to her side and looked at her, trying to read her face but to no avail. So instead, he just asked.

"What happened out there?" He asked referring to her throwing up blood and desiccating. She licked her lips and swallowed the spit in her mouth. Her mouth was dry due to her desiccating and she felt like crap. She needed a drink desperately but couldn't complain to Kol, he just saved her life but she wasn't going to explain what she happened.

So, she opted to get to her feet, him following behind, as she tried to walk away. "Nothing." She muttered as she headed down the street, avoiding looking at the reckless Mikaelson. He rolled his eyes obviously not believing the werewolf. She was throwing up blood and desiccating. That was never a good thing.

"That was obviously something, darling." He responded. She shook her head and carried on down the streets. She was heading towards the Lafayette Cemetery. She knew that she could escape into there but she guessed Kol could follow her. He sighed and his phone ringing interrupted him before he could speak. He stopped and answered his phone. Helga, however, continued on down the street towards the Lafayette Cemetery. She wanted to avoid any and all interaction with Kol.

* * *

Helga entered the gates of Lafayette and instantly was hit with a wave of memories. She knew a witch in the 60s here and Marcel had mercilessly killed them after a spell that Helga convinced them to before. She always felt guilty about it so whenever she was in New Orleans, she came to visit the grave.

She made her way through the city of the dead to find the right tomb. She was in search of the Chapman family graves. Elizabeth Chapman. Murdered by Marcel and his posse and consecrated by the coven in this graveyard. Helga turned the corner and looked from the graves only to be met face to face with Freya.

The Mikaelson instantly recognised the girl and instantly moved her hand into a fist, giving Helga multiple aneurysms. She collapsed to the floor, gripping her head as the pain coursed through her body. She screamed out in agony before the pain subsided as Freya began to talk.

"What are you doing here?" The witch asked glaring down at Helga. Helga huffed and got to her feet, her eyes flickering to the golden yellow of her wolf side.

"God, you are gonna pay for that, bitch," Helga growled, about to attack Freya. However, a sudden force pushed her away from the witch. Helga landed on the floor and looked to the witch to see Kol standing there.

"So, you two have met before. Great. This is my sister, Freya." Kol said looking to Freya before his gaze reverted to Helga. Helga's eyes widened and she climbed to her feet, wiping the dirt off her jeans.

"Your sister? Explains the overprotectiveness." Helga muttered as she looked up at the pair. They did look quite similar so it made sense. "I met your sister when you had just got daggered. Clearly, you had told her of me because this bitch tried to kill me." Helga seethed glaring at the blonde witch. Kol held a look of confusion but it quickly passed as he glanced at Freya.

"Ah. The prophecy, yes. Are you here to kill my family Helga? Befriend us and then stab us in the back? If that's your plan. I suggest you end all thoughts of that and just go now." Kol said, almost mocking the werewolf. She scoffed and crossed her arms across her chest.

"How long did it take you to work that out? I'm not that obvious. We know each other better than anyone else. Can you really not work out why I'm here?" She retorted, her annoyance towards the Mikaelsons evident in her tone. Kol rolled his eyes and Freya seemed confused.

"Really, digging up our past, Helga? That was over what… 600 years ago? We've both changed over that time. You are not the same girl I remembered and your confident facade isn't fooling me either so just drop it. I know who you are underneath all those fake smiles." He responded. She scoffed at him and stepped towards him.

"You are in dangerous waters, Kol Mikaelson." She said through gritted teeth as she glared at the Mikaelson.

"What are you doing here, Helga? That's all I want to know." Kol responded completely ignoring her threat. Helga took a deep breath. Burying her burning anger. She stepping closer and glanced around.

"I'm here to visit a woman who I got killed by accident." She said before walking away from the Mikaelson siblings. She was in search of the Chapman tomb still and was hoping she wouldn't have to interact with the Mikaelsons for a little longer now.


	3. Chapter Two

[ **New Orleans, 1st July 2015** ]

Helga's eyes shoot open, tears filling them and her whole body shaking, covered in a layer of sweat. She suppressed a sob that threatened to escape as she moved out of bed. Her hands were shaking and tears were slowly falling down her cheeks. She attempted to wipe them away and get rid of them but it did nothing to stop them. They still continued to flow steadily.

She exited her bedroom, leaning against the wall as she got her composure back. She took a few deep breaths and blinked the tears away. The abbatoir was quiet but she had a feeling that someone was probably still awake.

After a moment, she walked along the corridor and took the inside stairs to the kitchen. The tiles were cold against her hot skin and it was a nice sensation even though it caused goosebumps to form.

She made her way towards the cupboards in search of a glass. She tried her best to put the nightmare out of her mind and just concentrate on the present. She didn't dwell on the past and that nightmare often tortured her in her many years. Latanya often gave it to her in hopes of it spurring her on to kill the Mikaelsons.

However, the nightmare only caused her to hate Latanya, not the Mikaelsons. Latanya was the reason all of this happened and it was not the Mikaelsons fault. She moved to the breakfast bar and sat on the edge of it, sipping the glass of water in her shaking hands.

She hated how shaky her hands got after a nightmare. She bawled her hand up in an effort to stop the shaking but after she let the fist go they continued to shake. She took a deep breath and took another sip of the water just taking deep calming breaths. She had to stay calm or she'd start crying again which was the last thing she wanted.

"Nightmares plague you still," Kol said appearing in the doorway. She glanced up at the man who knew of her nightmares. She never told him what happened but he was aware of them. She had them most nights when they were together in the 1400s and he was quite aware of the effect they had on her.

"Yeah. You could say that." She muttered and he sighed, walking over to her. She looked up at him and did her best to not let his presence bother her but it did. He looked down at her and tilted his head slightly like he was trying to work her out.

"Why are you even here Helga?" He said his tone suddenly aggressive. She sighed and shook her head, looking down at the glass in her hand. Her facade of confidence dropped the moment she had that nightmare. She couldn't keep it up after that. It would be back by the morning though.

"I know what you are thinking. I'm not here to kill you." She replied, keeping her eyes on the water that she was swirling around her glass. Kol could see her hands shaking still and her heartbeat didn't waver. She wasn't lying.

"Then why are you here?" He asked his aggressiveness toned down slightly. She shrugged and took a sip of the water, her skin still burning from Kol being around and the nightmare.

"I don't know." She muttered as she glanced up at the man. His eyebrows knitted together and he stepped back from her. He leaned against the door frame just behind him, keeping his gaze on the suddenly fragile woman in front of him.

It was strange to see her like this. He always saw her as this strong, confident woman but she wasn't like that. Even with Niklaus when they were younger, she tried not to show her fear for Kol's older brother. Kol never saw how truly afraid of him she was. He never saw how fragile she was. Her emotions that went haywire when her parents tried to set her up with another man despite them knowing she was in love with Kol. He never saw her like this because she didn't want him to. Seeing her now was such a strange insight.

Instead of saying something else, the vampire just disappeared from the kitchen. He went back to his room. Upon this happening, Helga let out a breath of relief. She didn't know what just happened, her guard had just been down and she was showing him what she didn't want him to see. What she never wanted him to see. What was she thinking?

* * *

 _Helga woke up in a metal chair. Her wrists were bound to the arms of the chair and her legs bound to the legs. The ropes were burning her wrists instantly causing tears to brim her eyes and the chair's metal was burning the skin on her legs. It took her body a moment to realise what was happening. Only then did she let out an ear piercing scream._

 _The scream was quickly cut short by Latanya. She has forced Helga's mouth to close and she was rendered literally speechless. Helga looked up at the dark-skinned woman and her distaste was evident on her features_

" _You never listen, do you?" Latanya asked looking at the white wolf. Helga would have retorted something back at the woman but she couldn't speak so instead she just, sat back on the chair. This only causing her more excruciating pain. "You don't seem to understand that you have to kill the Mikaelsons. It is your purpose. It's your destiny. They are the reason you are even living. You should be killing them. You are in their house. Kill them." Latanya seethed looking at the girl. Helga shook her head and the pain intensified. It spreading everywhere on her body. She kicked and thrashed wanting to escape the chair. "I know your feelings for the youngest brother. It's pathetic really. You are in love with him? He's a vampire and could never love you." She continued, mixing something on a table. Latanya had her back to Helga so Helga was unable to see what the witch was doing. She couldn't even see if it was a spell. With a wave of Latanya's hand, the werewolf could speak once more._

" _I'm not in love with Kol." She seethed the pain becoming almost unbearable. "I don't care for them. I'm going to kill them even if it means the death of me. I'm just gaining their trust so I can stab them in the back." She informed the old witch. Latanya turned and looked at the werewolf. For a moment, Latanya didn't believe her but then she just did. Helga had become an expert liar and she could lie to anyone she wanted with ease._

" _If you say so. If you do not kill the Mikaelsons, you know what will happen." Latanya said picking up the bowl of herbs. She put two fingers in the mixture and then drew a pattern on Helga's forehead with it._

" _The destruction of all of humanity. You've said" Helga muttered and Latanya nodded looking down at the girl. The sudden change in attitude didn't make Helga suspicious which was a mistake on her part. The sudden change was not due to any deception of Helga. It was a trick by Latanya and Helga was naive to not see it._


	4. Chapter Three

[ **New Orleans, 2nd July 2015** ]

Helga stood in front of the stove, swinging her hips as she hummed along to the tune on the radio. She was cooking bacon and eggs for her breakfast and due to her being the only person in the house that ate normal food, she was making it for one. She turned the bacon over and smiled to herself.

She heard the cupboard opening to her left and Elijah was stood, getting a glass out. He was holding a blood bag in his hand, clearly about to eat.

"Morning." She said moving her gaze back to her cooking bacon. He sent her a smile and poured some of the blood into a glass.

"Good morning. What are you doing up so early?" He asked curiously. The sun had barely came up and Helga was wide awake. Mainly due to the nightmare she had with Latanya haunting her.

"Just woke up early, I guess. What about you? Your siblings are all asleep and I doubt there is business to attend to this time." She questioned curiously. The toaster popped and she made her way overtaking the toast from it, placing it on a plate.

"I generally just wake up early. It's a habit." He responded and she nodded. She put the bacon and eggs onto the toast, squishing the second piece on top to make a sandwich. She smiled and picked up the plate.

"I didn't see Rebekah come last night. Where is she?" Helga asked wanting to keep the conversation going. She wanted it more for her own benefit than anything. She wanted to know where she was and if she was safe. New Orleans wouldn't be safe for long. Latanya might do something and Helga knew it wouldn't be good.

"Niklaus daggered her for her betrayal." He informed the werewolf. She rolled her eyes at that and cut her sandwich in half.

"What did she do now?" She questioned looking up at him as he took a sip of the blood. She could never understand him drinking blood. It just felt wrong to do and Helga seeing it being done freaked her out.

"Her and Marcellus tried to run away together." Elijah answered, "However, they didn't even manage to get out of here before Rebekah was daggered and Marcellus knocked out with vervain." He continued telling the story as Helga took a bite of her sandwich, listening out of curiosity. "Marcellus is in the garden where he's staying until Niklaus deems it appropriate to release him and Rebekah is the same but in a coffin." Elijah finished, drinking some of the blood. Helga sighed slightly and took a bite out of her sandwich, thinking. A slightly awkward silence engulfed the area which Helga was quick to get rid of once she'd swallowed her food.

"Niklaus' angry will be his downfall." She said and Elijah nodded. Elijah's phone ringing interrupted what Helga was about to say. He pulled it out and excused himself. Helga couldn't listen into the conversation despite her curiosity so she stayed in the kitchen, thinking. Who would be calling Elijah this early in the morning? Barely anyone was awake this early, especially in the summer months.

However, her thoughts quickly drifted as thoughts of Latanya invaded her thoughts making her good mood dampen. A frown growing on her features as she ate. Her thoughts then drifted to Rebekah and Marcel. Marcel was a good man who she'd known for the better part of half a century. She hadn't seen him in a few decades but he was a good man, mostly, but he definitely didn't deserve the wrath of Klaus.

* * *

[ **New Orleans, 7th November 1969** ]

Helga adjusted her seat on the bar stool, holding a pint of beer in hand. She was lucky to even get into the bar. The law had just passed meaning she could even come into the bar. She was sick of the men in society and if she was a vampire, she was sure most of the population of men would be dead. They were dicks and she was sick of them but had to deal.

As she sipped on her pint, a dark-skinned man sat down next to her. He held a cocky smile as he ordered a drink. Helga sighed and took a large swig of the beer, not realising who it was sat next to her. She glanced over and realised it was Marcellus. Marcel as he called himself.

Helga had only heard about the man, he was the adoptive son of Niklaus Mikaelson. The Mikaelsons brought him up and when they fled, he took the city for his own. That was also she knew of the man in front of her, well other than he was a vampire.

"Hey," Marcel said after his glass appeared in front of him. He moved his gaze to Helga, checking her out. She rolled her eyes and finished the last of her pint. She got up about to leave when Marcel grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to her seat.

"I know who you are." He said which instantly made Helga turn and look at the man with a vicious glare. She reluctantly sat down and kept her glare on him as he began to explain himself, "Kol told me about you and Niklaus talked about you in his journals." Marcel began. His gaze not moving off her, "The white wolf of your village, unique and best friends with the Mikaelsons. You aren't like us but you are immortal. What are you?" Marcel asked his curiosity getting the best of him. He still had a grip on her wrist making sure she didn't escape. However, she quickly used this to her advantage. She grabbed onto his wrist with her hand and began to squeeze it. This caused Marcel pain but not enough to make him cry out, just wince.

"Do they know?" She asked looking at the man who simply shook his head. She let out a sigh and let go of his arm, "What did Kol say about me?" She asked after a moment of silence where she mulled everything over.

"He just talked about you. Said that he missed you, I guess. I don't really remember. He said a lot." He responded, taking a drink of the bourbon he ordered. He had clearly taken after the habits of the Mikaelsons. Helga ordered herself another pint of beer and then turned back to the man.

"You were the one that brought Mikael to New Orleans, weren't you?" She asked which instantly made the man tense up at the mention of his name. It was like he was guilty because he did which Helga didn't understand.

"Yeah. Rebekah helped." He said almost trying to shift the blame onto the blonde original. Helga nodded and took a sip of her beer, thinking about the conversation she'd had with the blonde a few decades ago. They had met in the 1920s and talked over a few martinis.  
"She is still in love with you, you know. She thinks you are dead." Helga informed which made Marcel frown deeply. She then frowned as well remembering how the girl fell off the face of the earth in that decade. "But I think she's daggered now." She added after a moment of thought. Marcel's frown deepened as he downed the rest of the bourbon. Helga took drank more beer and kept her eyes on the golden liquid in the cup.

Marcel watched her as her frown deepened, he was unsure of what she was thinking about but he knew it couldn't have been good. He could tell that Helga had a strong connection with the Mikaelson family… well some of them but he wasn't entirely sure what kind of connection. Romantic, friendly or family but it was something that he couldn't place.

"Where are they now anyway?" Marcel asked and this caused Helga to look up. She looked deep in thought for a moment, wracking her brain for the place where she last heard of them.

"I believe Elijah is in Paris, France. He seems to be romancing a woman there. Niklaus is in Tuscany, Italy. He's revelling in the taste of the people's blood but trying not to gain his father's attention. Rebekah is in a box along with Kol and Finn. I'm sure Niklaus has them stored somewhere safe." She explained finally remembering everything. She had informants in a lot of places and since the invention of the printing press, tracking the Mikaelsons had become easier. Marcel nodded and the pair continued talking until Marcel had business to deal with in his city.


	5. Chapter Four

[ **New Orleans, 2nd July 2015** ]

Helga strolled into the courtyard of the Abbatoir. There she found Niklaus. He had a glass of Bourbon in his hand and a look of deep thought on his face. She could tell that he was thinking about something. She couldn't work out what but it must have been something important. She could see tears forming in his eyes but he blinked them away upon realising they were there.

"When did you became a day drinker?" She asked as she sat down across from him. He looked up at her with annoyance on his features. He then looked away and just drank more of the bourbon in his glass. She tilted her head and watched him. His anger was masking something she couldn't work out what it was. "You became a hybrid two years ago which means you found the doppelganger but I don't see any hybrids running around. So, I'm assuming whatever you did failed or the doppelganger stayed dead meaning no hybrids for you. But I know that the doppelganger is alive. Two of them are as far as I'm aware. So, my question is, where are the hybrids?" Helga explained keeping her gaze fixed on the Mikaelson. Niklaus' grip visibly tightened on his glass and Helga was sure it was about to smash.

"I have let Katerina live. I interacted with her two years ago. Safe to say, she was as boring as in the 15th century but you never knew her then. You were too busy messing around with my brother." He responded placing the glass on the table. Helga glared at the Mikaelson, leaning back in her chair.

"Which you would have no idea about meaning. You've been listening to my conversations. That's awfully rude." Helga retorted realising that her conversation with Kol must have been overheard.

"Well, my brother seems to be infatuated with you and well, you like to scream in your sleep. It's rather hard to ignore." He said before picking up his glass drinking more of the alcohol. She sighed and rubbed her face with her hands.

"Kick me out then. You are the big bad hybrid after all. Get rid of me." She taunted leaning towards him. He raised an eyebrow and scoffed at her. He placed his glass down and looked at her, his head tilted slightly. He was trying to work out what she was trying to do but was failing to do so.

"I keep my enemies close." He responded simply before getting to his feet. Helga watched as he picked up the glass. "Now, I've got other business to attend to. I don't have all day to spend explaining myself to you." He said before disappearing into the building. She sighed and watched him as he went in. She wanted to work out what he was so upset about. It couldn't have been over the doppelganger. There would be another one in however long. Maybe there wouldn't be though. Maybe she was a vampire and there would be no Petrova doppelgangers. Now that would be better for the whole world.

* * *

The full moon was already beginning to rise and it was going to happen soon. She knew how to get it over with quickly and she didn't feel the pain of her breaking bones. A thousand years of this every month did a lot for her pain tolerance. Not much hurt her anymore.

She was walking towards the bayou when suddenly her leg started breaking causing her to collapse to her knees. She could see the tree line in sight and she just needed to get there. She didn't want to accidentally kill someone as a wolf. She had practically no control over her wolf self.

She dragged herself towards the forest, her bones breaking more. The pain hitting her in waves but she didn't really feel them. She didn't feel the excruciating pain most werewolves would feel. When she finally collapsed into the tree line, she just let everything go. She let her bones break as she changed into her wolf form. Her chestnut eyes turning golden and her skin turning to pure white fur. It was as white as snow and not a single mark graced it.

A sudden feeling of freedom passed over her. She felt like herself. Her true self. Everything she felt disappeared as she howled to the moon. Without even thinking about it, she began running through the woods, bounding as she went between the trees.

She always loved becoming a wolf. She felt carefree and had no trouble despite what was actually happening, the constant threat of attack or fear of killing someone. A lot of the time, those fears didn't plague Helga's mind. They were just washed away like they meant nothing. It was a strange but amazing sensation.

Her legs took her through the trees and the smell of a fire alarmed her. She watched as someone walked by her, willing herself to step back. She heard a voice shouting at the woman who walked by. She did her best to keep herself back as she waited for them to pass.

When the man finally came into sight, she realised who it was. Elijah Mikaelson. He spotted the white wolf in an instant and his gaze didn't waver. Multiple emotions flashing over his face, fear, worry, shock, concern. Things that came and went in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly, a growl came out of Helga's mouth. It was directed towards the vampire but Helga didn't even mean to do so. Elijah glanced towards the woman who had previously walked by. She was stood a good few metres away but Helga could still feel a metallic taste in her throat.

The woman was a brunette. She had it tied up in a pony and firewood bundled in her arms. She suddenly came into sight, her eyes glowing yellow as she looked down at the white wolf. However, her face was filled with confusion as she looked to Elijah for an explanation.

"This isn't one of our pack." She said to the noble Mikaelson. He nodded and then looked back to Helga. She was on the verge of throwing up the metallic blood even if her wolf form. Everything affected her the same.

"It's Helga Labonair. One of your ancestors." He informed the brunette who continued to look confused. Helga, upon realising the situation at hand, turned and bound off in the opposite direction. She felt the soft dirt of the bayou shift underneath her paws as she ran. She couldn't be around the woman. She needed to get as far away as possible from the brunette. She was her ancestor. It was her. Who was she? What was her name? How did they end up in New Orleans?


End file.
